


A Lust For Life (Keeps Us Alive)

by junsnow



Series: A Feast of Kinks [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Jon and Sansa are married, Jonsa Kink Week, PWP, Post-Canon, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Smut, Smut and Fluff, jonsakinkweek, this is cheesy as hell actually lol, welp this ended up fluffier than I expected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 19:41:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13596996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junsnow/pseuds/junsnow
Summary: Sansa had always been beautiful, breathtakingly so, but now she had thisglowabout her as well, one that he had never seen the like before. Her fair skin was luminous, her long auburn hair was shining and flowing past her shoulders, and herbreasts—her breasts were fuller than ever, a mouthwatering feast, tempting him at all times.-Day 6: Pregnancy Kink





	A Lust For Life (Keeps Us Alive)

**Author's Note:**

> Well. This one is fresh off the oven. Just on time. Title from the Lana del Rey song "Lust for Life". Enjoy!

“ _Jon_.”

 

He startles, looking around to find his wife staring at him in askance, along with the rest of his council. He’d gotten distracted again. It’s been happening quite a lot; anytime his gaze wanders to Sansa’s pregnant belly, really. He can’t help but smile and stare like an idiot, imagining the babe they would be holding in their arms in a few moons. The babe they had made _together_.

 

Then he would remember them _making_ the babe, and well…that was even more distracting. Jon couldn’t pinpoint the exact occasion—there had been too many when it could have happened, with how frequently they coupled. Still, his mind played back as many as he could remember.

 

He’d always been hungry for her; easily aroused by the mere sight of her, and when Sansa had started to swell with his child, somehow he’d become even more so. Jon couldn’t understand how other men would avoid bedding their wives when they were pregnant—it was all he could think of. Fucking his beautiful, pregnant wife.

 

Sansa had always been beautiful, breathtakingly so, but now she had this _glow_ about her as well, one that he had never seen the like before. Her fair skin was luminous, her long auburn hair was shining and flowing past her shoulders, and her _breasts_ —her breasts were fuller than ever, a mouthwatering feast, tempting him at all times. Jon wants to tell them all to go, to leave him alone with his wife so he could suck on those rosy peaks and fuck her on the table. He has half a mind to do so, when she calls his name again, and Jon is forced to clear his throat before he can say anything improper.

 

“I apologize. What were you saying, my love?”

 

Sansa frowns at him briefly, but continues. “The Lords were discussing the need for a new watchtower on Torrhen’s Square.”

 

The meeting drags on, and Jon tries not to let his mind wander again.

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

By the time they retire for the night, Jon is aching for her. They’re finally alone, and he wastes no time in putting his hands on her. He starts massaging her shoulders as she sits in front of the vanity table, brushing her hair before bed. Her pleased moans go straight to his groin.

 

“Jon,” she sighs, body relaxing into his touch, “What’s gotten into you lately?”

 

 “What do you mean, love?”

 

“You seem distracted. Always thinking of something else when people are talking to you.” When he meets her eyes in the looking glass, he finds worry in them. “What’s on your mind?”

 

He leans down to leave a kiss on the base of her neck before he replies, “You. Always.”

 

 “ _Me?_ That’s what you’ve been daydreaming about?” She scoffs.

 

“Is that so hard to believe?” Jon is almost offended on her behalf. “You’re my wife, Sansa. You’re carrying my child. Who else would I be thinking about?”

 

Sansa looks skeptical. “I don’t know! Someone who _doesn’t_ look they’ve just swallowed an entire melon.”

 

He laughs at her jape, until the insecurity in her expression makes him stop. She exhales, looking down and fidgeting with the hem of her nightshift, more vulnerable than he’s seen her in ages. It makes his heart ache.

 

Jon kneels before her, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. “Sansa. Listen to me. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me. _I love you_. The fact that you’re carrying my child only makes me want you more.” He kisses her, laying his hands on her belly.

 

When he pulls back to look at her, she’s biting her lip, looking back at him through her lashes. “You don’t think I look ugly?” She asks, still doubtful.

 

 “You couldn’t look ugly if you tried, Lady Stark.” He gives her a smile, the one she says always makes her melt. He gets the results he wanted when she smiles back adoringly at him.

 

Jon picks up the bottle of scented oil she keeps on the table, the one she uses on herself every night to keep her skin from getting stretch marks. He pours it on his hands, rubbing them together to make them warm, and Sansa lifts off her shift so he can spread it on the skin of her belly. When he’s done, he lays a kiss there, then urges her to lift the shift further, completely off, so he can do the same to her breasts. He knows they’re growing more sensitive now, so he keeps his touch gentle. It’s enough to make her hum in satisfaction, for her nipples to harden into peaks. He takes each one into his mouth in turns, sucking lightly and cherishing the moans he gets in return.

 

Sansa’s hands come up to caress his hair as he lavishes his attention on her breasts. Jon parts her legs then, eager to touch her. He finds her cunt wet and ready for him, his fingers sliding easily through her folds before he pushes them inside her. Her moans keep getting louder, and when he resolves to taste her at her core, they get louder still. He laps at the wetness seeping around his fingers, tasting the sweet juices before he goes to suck on her nub. She comes quickly for him; unravels beautifully as he watches, enraptured.

 

“How can you think you’re not beautiful? How can you not see what I see?”

 

She opens her eyes to look at him, still breathless from her orgasm, and Jon drowns in the blue depths. He kisses her deeply; sharing the taste he loves so much, then picking her up in his arms to carry her to their bed. Jon lays Sansa on her side, settling behind her and kissing her neck. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin, leaving marks that would darken later, like flowers blooming on her pearly white neck.

 

Usually he likes to have her ride him, but he knew the effort of moving with the added weight made her tired, so he lifts a slender leg over his and slides inside her from behind.

 

“ _Jon_ ,” she whimpers, reaching blindly behind her to grasp his hair.

 

Her wet heat envelops him, fitting perfectly around his cock, and Jon groans at the feeling. He starts to move in slow, deep strokes that make Sansa whine. He’s in no hurry—he means to enjoy this.

 

“ _Gods_ , Sansa. You feel so good.” He grunts, sliding all the way out before pounding into her again. “I want to fuck you like this all the time, did you know that? _Umpf_ —it’s all I think about. Before, at the council meeting…I wanted to tell them all to leave, so I could fuck you on the table. Would you like that, love?”

 

She nods, but the only sounds to leave her lips are soft cries of pleasure.

 

“We’ll do that tomorrow, then. I want to see you cum for me on the Great Hall, in light of day. I want the passing servants and Lords alike to hear you scream my name.” Her cunt pulses around him, and Jon fucks her harder, hips snapping against her ass. “What do you think, Sansa? Will you open your legs for me? _Ungh_ —Give me your sweet cunt on the table we carry our meetings? Tell me, love.” He pants.

 

“Yes,” she manages to say between moans. “ _Mmm_ , you can fuck me anywhere you want, Jon.”

 

It’s just what he wants to hear—he feels his skin tingle with the idea, with all the other places in the castle he wants to fuck his pregnant wife in. The library, the kitchens, the armory— _the bloody stables_ , if she’ll let him. He’ll take her everywhere.

 

Sansa’s moans get louder, and Jon knows she’s getting close. He deliberately slows down his thrusts, until she whines, “ _Jon_ ,” in that delicious huffy tone of hers. He wants to please her, but he also loves to hear her beg.

 

“Tell me what you want, Sansa.” He mouths below her ear.

 

She inhales sharply before begging him, “ _Please_ , Jon, fuck me harder. I want to cum around you cock so bad.”

 

It’s not the language you would expect from a noble Lady, and Jon prides himself in how he got her to speak thus. She’d learned a whole lot from him since their wedding night. She reminds him as much as she squeezes deliberately around him, urging him to do her bidding. He does, thrusting in earnest.

 

“You want to cum? I’ll make you peak so hard, Sansa, the whole castle will hear you.”

 

“ _Ahhn_ , yes, Jon!” She sobs, “make me cum, then spill inside me.”

 

He laughs, chest rumbling as he keeps fucking her. “You want my seed, wife? Why? You already have it.”

 

“I want _more_. _Mmm_ , I want all you can give, Jon.”

 

“I’ll give you more, then,” Jon groans. “When this one is born, I’ll give you another babe. And another, and another, until you tell me to stop.”

 

Jon feels the tension gripping his balls, knows his own peak is fast approaching. He keeps driving into Sansa’s cunt, relentlessly, brings his fingers to her front to rub at her clit. “Cum, Sansa. _Unhgh_ —let me feel you clench around my cock.”

 

She _does_ —her scream is louder than any he can remember, and Jon lets himself go as her cunt milks him dry with a shout of his own.

 

They lay tangled together, sated and sweaty. Sleep takes them both not much later.

 

In the morning, they would discuss baby names before making love again.


End file.
